Primal I (10)

A few hours, that was all we’d had to explore what the Elder had wrought. A few hours to learn about each other, to explore capabilities and fit them to strategies and tactics suggested by the instincts gained, a few thin hours to process the enormity of what we had been forced to do to ourselves as a collective.

We… It was almost an intrusive thought, the way in which my mind drifted to the idea of commonality and inclusion with the beasts which only shortly ago would have happily murdered me to eat my corpse... ok so they’d still happily murder me to eat my corpse, but they’d likely be respectful and mournful about the process of doing it even if they enjoyed the end result.

It was a bit scary, and yet...

I would probably need to eventually purge this from my brain, these feelings of warmth and unnatural closeness. But they settled inside me, nestling deep in places that I’d always kept reserved for the closest of my family and friends. Already I could feel that thing inside me, like walking out into a family gathering and seeing the smiling faces of my multitude of cousins, aunts, uncles, and family both close and distant that I didn’t even have names for. Recluse I may have been, but I’d never been unsociable.

It hit me hard just how much I’d missed that, how much I’d avoided thinking about the myriad ways in which I felt to be separated from home and family, of the sinking pit of homesickness that my Zerg biology had kept at bay for all these months thus far spent. Of how my Zerg biology now took this precious feeling and twisted it, worming deep into my gut with a hungry desire to both see them safe, and to make them mine as intimately and deeply as possible.

I wanted to reach out to the closest one and hug them… hold them close as I ate them alive.

But at the same time the thought of them no longer existing became abhorrent as well, to devour them almost as taboo as a thing could be for Zerg, not without the proper observances of ritual, not without the light of life already gone from their eyes, not without a thousand other minor strictures embedded in the instruction set that made us feel these things in the first place. Every Zerg here was confused, attracted, and repelled… all of them accustomed to relying on their instincts to such a degree that now that their instincts had changed in such intense twists and turns, they could do little to resist the urges which came with them.

I could hardly do it. Not when those instincts were so close to giving me a piece of home in the way that I couldn’t even process before this moment. As such I did the only sensible thing that one could do in such a dire, confusing, strange situation.

I gathered every Zerg who had become part of my new and sudden leadership… and gathered them all up into one big cuddle pile.

… I won’t apologize or make excuses. I couldn’t help myself… didn’t want to help myself beyond wanting to bury my troubles in the single most comforting thing that I’d experienced thus far in this harsh and unforgiving world, Skizzy aside that is. I couldn’t help but see the emerging group dynamic here in these early times, my own need for closeness and comfort echoed in this bundle of alien instinct which I’d just installed, all meeting together in the middle for me to call together my minions and bury myself under a mound of pseudo-reptilian, pseudo-insectile, pseudo-mammalian flesh.

Draped above me and curled about most of the cuddle pile, Relur’s large body rumbled, the persistent heat of it pleasant in a way that was hard to describe.

His essence seeped of a strange, bone deep contentment. A sentiment echoed in all who gathered close.

“Tell me about yourselves. You’re mine now, I want to know more about you.” I let my essence speak plainly, a hint of kindness positioned behind its meaning. “Tomorrow we fight, and maybe some of you will die. So speak to me and let me have more of you than just the essence you could give.”

Skizzy cooed in encouragement, tentacles dancing about as she lounged languorous on my head.

“What is there to tell? I have lived many setting suns and seasons, hunted worthy and unworthy Zerg across the face of our world, and survived just as many who have themselves hunted me.” Atmaz answered, cuddled at my side like a beloved pet, or kin... I could hardly tell which.

I couldn’t help but grimace.

Of course there would be little context for them to share, little detail that they would know what could be considered important about themselves beyond their technical capabilities, a thing shared quickly with such easy access to the artistry of our individual forms.

“Then tell me about what aspects of essence interest you? Or maybe of a hunt that sticks in your mind? Perhaps an encounter or philosophy shared with another.” I replied, struggling myself to set the groundwork for meaningful communication. I didn’t even know what I might have in common with these creatures save the bond which had been forced on us all. But that didn’t mean I shouldn’t or wouldn’t try to figure something out.

As it turned out, Atmaz would take well to the framework provided, in particular it’s complete dissatisfaction with the essence which it had thus far acquired.

“... and for all that time, sun after sun… I have found no others who have managed to eclipse that beauty which I tasted from naught but a wondering herbivore. Essence divine and yet sublime, I have not dared alter or change it despite the years of holding it within me, have not dared to attempt reconstituting the masterwork, knowing that the lifestyle, that the power which it represented was meager and easily destroyed, and yet the beauty of the woven work, I cannot help but think that I’d slain something which should have lived... that I’d cut short by mere luck the life of one who would have crafted wonders and grown strong in the process. It has always haunted and disturbed me, the very idea of it.”

It had been a bit surprising to find out that he’d been carrying this with him. Thoughts like this, but the Zerg mind really was not to be underestimated. That my subordinate had found art and beauty in the work of another... but it shouldn’t have surprised me, shouldn’t have shocked. If there had been a single value I should have understood as fellow Zerg, is that Essence was more than a means to an end.

In a way, the elder Zurvan had essentially carved space for a philosophy to grow, a meaning to life which would push his lesser brethren to heights worthy of being devoured. Essence was in and of itself an end, and elegance, beauty, and determination were its building blocks.

“Then stop fearing and pull it apart, learn from it. Are you so useless that you’d horde essence without using it? Without learning from its secrets? Rifle though the beauty and rip out the meat.” Relur rudely interjected, his sturdy voice rumbling through our psychic contact. A strange excitement tinged upon him. “You denigrate it’s death with your petty quibbling, tear it’s essence apart until you find the core of its brilliance, take that and GROW.”

“And what if I cannot find the kernel of what I desire? What should I do if in my indelicate frenzy I should rip apart the very core of that essence that I desire, that I should break the delicate balance that gave rise to what I’d desired? You are young yet, you have not seen the multitude I have, the lucky taking from the talented... only to squander their luck with their own lack of talent. Nothing less than absolute mastery. Nothing less... can be afforded.”

I stayed out of it from there, letting the two argue their diametrically opposed view of the nature of essence and genius. Atmaz’ argument going strong for the idea that ultimately to properly work with essence of a certain caliber and gain all that one could from it, one needed to first gain enough lesser essence to build upon. Relur’s counter arguments to the tune of simply taking the strength flagging a bit, only to regain strength as he started attacking the utility of taking action and taking what one could over trying to wait, leaving yourself weaker and more vulnerable than you could have been if you simply took action and took the Essence apart for what was useful to you now.

All the while the youngest of the three Borgus, simply listened, almost entranced to hear it’s elders in a philosophical disagreement as it voiced agreement for points from both.

This would only the first of such interactions.

It didn’t hurt though that even as the argument raged on, all of us had settled into the cuddle pile without so much as a second thought. No resistance in the slightest at having each and every one of our neighbors close enough to kill without effort, yet trusting them not to do so.

And here I was playing den-mother to the entire nest of vipers.

It reminded me of being the oldest, taking care of my proliferation of cousins back as a human. A strange nostalgia that shook me deeply as I listened to their debate.

“So why then did you turn to this form? If you were not aiming to collect essence which was matured as possible for your immediate use, why chose a form which would push you towards matured prey?” Relur asked, the question breaking your reverie for the moment as you considered its implications.

“Because it seemed a strategy which would net me essence that was unique to what I’ve gathered, that might give me new, fresh insights because of the manner in which their lives were lived. Hell-Shells are essentially hermits unlike us Pulse-Breakers.” You listened as Atmaz spoke... Pulse-Breakers… it had been the first time you’d heard anyone refer to your group by speciation. “Their lives are lived in contemplation, constant striving to refine what they have rather than to reach out and find more. I felt it fitting that they might be have come up with an element of finesse in the construction of their essence. A measure of ability which might have become inherent to them which I could take for my own.”

“And did you find it?” Another asked, a smaller creature... it hadn’t been brave enough to volunteer a name before and yet here in the crush of bodies against bodies it found voice enough to attempt to sate it’s curiosity.

“I found what we all found I suppose. A different manner of action... nothing better nor worse than any others I’d committed to feeding upon. I had been considering shedding this form to make use of some of the lessons gained and maybe find the confidence I needed to unweave some more of the essence I’ve gathered into something of greater finesse… only to be trapped in the call of the Elder, too close when it cried out. I like many of you was completely entranced by the essence which it suggested.” Atmaz lashed his tail lightly, brushing it up against my own as I snuggled beside him and the others close by. I wrapped mine about his in solidarity, even as Relur curled tighter about the bunch of us.

It was a strange solidarity which permeated our group, even as the dam broke and words began to flow between us.

Most of them had a similar story, a need to survive, a desire to hunt something which would put them out of the way of others. A clear path towards superiority which they acknowledged as temporary. But even temporary relief from the pressures of predation was its own boon. Already the Hellshells which remained had begun to adapt new strategies against my kind, evidenced by one of the smaller ones talking about a hellshell which had encorporated a burrowing and camouflage mechanic to it’s mix.